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The 5 Most Insanely Misunderstood Morals of Famous Stories

#5. The Great Gatsby Criticizes Decadence, Inspires Parties

The Great Gatsby is that 1920s American novel with hidden pictures of naked women on the cover. It's also deeply critical of the self-indulgent lifestyle of rich people with more money than scruples, like that Gatsby dude in the title. True, the story does feature quite a few parties, but Gatsby just throws them to attract a ditsy flapper girl, a relationship that doesn't end well (SPOILERS: everyone dies). As a result, Gatsby's parties turn out to be empty and meaningless affairs -- sometimes literally empty, like that time he turns on all his lights as though he's throwing a party, but no one's there.

"'Oh, Gatsby! Now I know why they call you great!' I sure am, old sport! And not talking to myself right now!"

Due to its critical tone and tragic ending, the story has been called a "cautionary tale of the decadent downside of the American dream." You can debate whether the big-budget Leo DiCaprio movie adaptation grasped the message of the book, but we know one group of people who absolutely didn't.
The Fans Who Missed the Point
Yeah, it turns out that when your story has rich people dressed fabulously in opulent surroundings drinking classy liquor, fans aren't as likely to say "Look at the selfishness, hypocrisy, and moral vacuum" as they are to say "That party is AWESOME. Let's do that." For instance, rich people love throwing non-ironic "Gatsby parties," unaware that invoking the name of the novel basically amounts to admitting that the world would be a much better place without you.

"The firecrackers are all made from poor children's letters to Santa."

A few years ago, Prince Harry attended a Gatsby-themed 21st birthday party that cost $25,000 to throw. The following year, Paul McCartney threw his own expensive Gatsby birthday gala (although they're Brits, so in their case we could at least understand why they'd want to dance on the corpse of the American dream). Meanwhile, if you dare venture into Pinterest, you'll find page after page of users collecting material for Gatsby-themed weddings. As Zachary Seward of The Atlantic puts it, "It's like throwing a Lolita-themed children's birthday party."

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"Nice gun for my hubby to shoot after I die in a car crash. (11 repins, 7 likes)"

The Gatsby craze revved up even further before the release of the film. In London, newspapers had to advise their readers about which of the many Gatsby parties they should favor. And CNN, while actually conceding that the book critiqued this sort of thing, offered up a guide on hosting your own Gatsby bash. For babies.

Tonya Joy via Layla Grayce via CNN
Because there's nothing they like more than some Fitzgerald before nap time.

#4. 127 Hours Fans Love Getting Stuck in Dangerous Canyons

127 Hours is a film starring James Franco as real-life hiker Aron Ralston who, in 2003, went on a hike in Blue John Canyon, Utah, fell into a ravine, and became trapped under a boulder. Since Ralston did not tell anyone that he was going hiking, no one knew where to look for him, and he ended up spending 127 hellish hours trapped in the canyon ... oh, and having to amputate his own arm with a cheap multi-tool knife to escape.

Yes, the movie had a masturbation scene, and yes, he had to go lefty. This is a true story of tragedy.

The Fans Who Missed the Point
127 Hours has a pretty clear moral: For fuck's sake, if you must go hiking alone, tell someone where you're going and be careful, or else you'll have to cut your own fucking arm off. And yet hikers like Amos Wayne Richards walked away from the movie with the message, "Wouldn't it be neat to go hiking in the exact same place that guy did, and also not tell anyone about it?"

This is like seeing Pulp Fiction and thinking, "Hey, let's visit the basement of a pawnshop."

Keep in mind, Richards wasn't some dumbass 20-something James Franco wannabe -- he was 64 years old. And, of course, while 60 feet down a 70-foot-deep ravine, Richards slipped and fell the last 10 feet to the bottom. During the fall, he dislocated his shoulder, bumped his head on a rock, and broke his leg. It took Richards four days to crawl out of the ravine, and by the time the park rangers found him, he had already finished all of his water. If someone adapted his story into a movie, it'd be called 96 Hours (of Stupidity).

Followed by the sequel, 31 Hours (on an IV).

In the end, it's the collective dumbness of 127 Hours fans that saved Richards. The park rangers at Blue John Canyon realized that Richards was missing because they were used to the influx of hiking enthusiasts to the canyon since 127 Hours was released. In fact, since 2005 (Ralston's biography came out in 2004), more than two dozen rescues have been performed in that same area -- between 1998 and Ralston's incident, that number was "none."

Who wouldn't risk everything for that view?

Let this be a lesson to Hollywood writers everywhere: If you write a movie where your main character is forced to cut his own limb off and drink his own urine, people will go out of their way to try to end up in the same situation. Likewise ...

#3. Into the Wild Inspires Fans to Get Lost in the Wilderness

Into the Wild (both the book and the 2007 film) tells the real story of Christopher McCandless, aka Alexander Supertramp, an idealistic young man who dealt with the aimlessness of post-college life by taking off to live alone in the Alaskan wilderness -- it was the '90s, so his only other option was forming a shitty alt-rock band.

Christopher Newport University

Fashion-wise, there wasn't much difference.

As we've previously pointed out, this was a pretty misguided idea, since his little adventure was fueled more by "misunderstanding Emerson and Thoreau" and less by "knowing what the fuck he's doing." McCandless died alone in an abandoned bus in the middle of nowhere, but neither the film nor the book shy away from this fact, portraying him as a good guy who fell victim to some foolish choices.

Mostly involving hair.

The Fans Who Missed the Point right

So what do you do after you read a book where the main character ends up dying a slow, miserable death due to his own stupidity? Why, you copy that stupidity, of course. Since the book was released, hundreds (if not thousands) of fans have made their way to the site where McCandless died, like a pilgrimage to Mecca for overprivileged grad students. Not all of them have survived.

Paxson Woelber
"It's a shitty bus, like the book said! Well, this was worth it."

In 2010, a Swiss fan died trying to cross a treacherous river on her way to see the bus -- the same river that trapped McCandless and caused his death in the book she loved so much. Another young fan from Oklahoma has been missing since March of this year after trying to pull a McCandless in the mountains of Oregon. At least those two had come somewhat prepared. Others, like fan Marc Paterson, have decided that they want to make the trip as authentic as possible ... which means taking the exact same (ridiculously dangerous) route as their hero and bringing the same limited amount of supplies, food, and common sense that McCandless had.

Fans like Paterson talk about testing their limits and rebelling against modern life, but here's the thing: That plan didn't work out so well for McCandless. As evidenced by the journals he left, his journey did not lead to any sort of greater enlightenment. He was hungry and afraid and trying to escape that place. If he had come across a McDonald's, he would have traded his entire philosophy for some McNuggets.

Stockbyte/Stockbyte/Getty Images
"We can enlarge your French fries if you add your dignity as well."

But hey, Paterson did equip himself with one vital piece of equipment that McCandless didn't have: a copy of Into the Wild. We can't wait until he gets to the end. yep

The 6 Worst Trades Ever Made in Exchange for Sex

How much is your ass worth? Not in the per-pound meat sense of the word, or in the sense of you as a whole person if you were to be sold for your organs, or what you'll earn in your lifetime, or how you're like a priceless and unique wonderful soul. I just meant your literal ass. Or another orifice. If you were to rent the space to someone, let's say for an hour, what would that be worth?

Prostitutes came up with answers to that question many moons ago, and to this day they're still setting a value on fun-time hole rentals -- or "companionship" as some people call it -- and it's a mixed bag of morality and weirdness. Lots of people think of sex workers as victims, but not all of them are. It's just that many people don't know about or don't acknowledge that the escort business is one in which a lot of women and about five guys make a lot of money just by having sex, and they do it because they want to. There are no pimps, no step-dad with wandering hands, no drug-addicted mom who sent them astray. It happens. Some people just think of sex as a commodity and use it as such, no other explanation required.
And while a Spitzer-level escort can pull in thousands of dollars for an hour of herky jerky wiggle and giggle, not everyone is charging the same price. Some are just working on the barter system.

#6. Value Meal

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Remember in Fight Club when Tyler Durden says to the narrator, "I want you to hit me as hard as you can"? Close your eyes and imagine that, but instead of hit, imagine the word "degrade" in there. Now open your eyes because I'm going to flesh out that request.
A desperate person in a desperate situation will do a lot of things. It's really only by the thinnest margin that society works at all, but under the right circumstances any of us could go buck wild and kill someone to save ourselves, rob a store to feed our families, or drop everything and flee to escape persecution. But what the Sam Hell makes you want to pork someone for a McChicken?
Of all the shameful things one could trade for sex, McDonald's probably symbolically stands head and shoulders above all else, proud and tall like the despicable, never-hump-to-get-this-stuff thing that it is. It's not that it's somehow worse in practice than sex for an equal amount of money, which I guess is like $6 or so, it's that culturally, and spiritually, McDonald's represents everything you don't want penetrating you. Tell me I'm wrong, penetration enthusiasts. McDonalds is the go-to joke restaurant when you're talking about something cheap or bad for you. Any other would do, but because of its global presence and its place in our understanding of the world at large, McDonald's is the titan of sadness. And that sadness just grows like an illicit boner at the drive-thru when you hear about someone humping for a McDinner.
Donald Jones was the John, or the Ronald or whatever you call him in this case, who was caught by officers after picking up a lady of the evening and going through the drive-thru with her. After buying a meal for his rent-a-friend, he asked how she'd pay him back for it and the whole messy transaction came to a head, as it were. When police confronted the two at a nearby park, the woman was pulling up her pants, so this was a full-on consummation deal. You'd figure McNuggets, in a moment of starvation, might be worth a handy at best, but, oh, no. This was the real deal.

#5. Office Supplies

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My day job is in an office where I wear a tie and pants that have a crease in them on purpose, and I have a novelty mug on my desk that features a cartoon dog saying "Bitches be crazy," which no one has noticed yet because if and when they do, I will have a meeting with HR about workplace sensitivity. I also have drawers full of office supplies. Do you need a paperclip? I have big ones and small ones and ones that are covered in colorful plastic, and I have literally never used a paperclip in my entire time in that office. Plus I have glue sticks, in case I become 10 years old one day.
Office supplies are abundant and, for the most part, useless to everyone. Despite that, a lawyer in Illinois was brought up on prostitution charges, which include allegations that she had sex for office supplies. If my paper clips are actually worth sex to someone, I am clearly working in the wrong office, and not just because the ladies I work with all look like John Madden at various weights during a bout of a severe stomach flu.
The lawyer, Reema Bajaj, plead guilty in 2012 to prostitution charges and later said she didn't actually accept money for sex, but now she's up on ethics charges because, and you may be surprised to learn this, a lawyer having sex for money is unethical. And, according to the charges brought against her, she put out for $70 worth of DVDs and about $70 worth of office supplies for her law office, which will probably net you a case of printer paper and some decent quality gel pens.

#4. Grades

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At first I wasn't going to include sex for grades in this article because who among us hasn't plooked a professor for a "B" once or twice? But then I thought that was the very reason to include this because, as it turns out, not many of us haven't done such a thing. Humping for higher learning is really, really popular.
A quick Google search finds a law professor in Singapore who got five months in jail for accepting tailored shirts, a snazzy pen, and some humpity jumpity from a student; a business professor in Bahrain who gave a student a zero on her midterms and then arranged a meeting to "improve" her grade, where improve in quotation marks means wiggling on his goody bag; and a high school football coach who managed to get five girls to sleep with him for better marks in whatever football coaches teach. All three were just in the past year or so. thats it
Now, sure, with all the teachers and all the students in the world this is a relatively uncommon practice, but it happens all over the world and has happened for years. Here's an article from 1977 about hair stylists who got passing grades and their licenses in exchange for sex. Did you even know a hair stylist needed a license? What the hell happens if you style hair without a license? The mind boggles.
Point is, a lot of people in a position of authority over students quickly realize they have something students want, and the students have several things they want. And thus, the spirit of barter is born.

#3. World Series Tickets

Donald Miralle/Lifesize/Getty Images

For the rest of her life, Susan Finkelstein will be known as the woman who tried to sell her ass to get tickets to see the Phillies and the Yankees in the 2009 World Series. Because she never actually boned anyone, the prostitution charge never stuck and, because attempted prostitution doesn't make sense and only works when you attempt and succeed to be a prostitute, she couldn't be convicted of that charge either. So, in 2011, her appeal was granted, and all charges against he were dropped. However, that doesn't mean the court said she didn't try to trade sex for World Series tickets, it mostly meant someone who does that is not now a hooker. They're just someone who tried to have sex for World Series tickets. Build one bridge, and no one calls you a bridge builder, right?
Finkelstein denied the charges despite placing an ad on Craigslist saying she was a "tall, buxom blonde" and in desperate need of World Series tickets. Police say they contacted her and asked what she was willing to pay, and she responded that her currency was "unusual" and sent some nude pictures. None of this 100 percent confirms sex, it just means that if you weren't raised in an Eastern European monastery you absolutely know she meant she'd bone you for tickets. No one ever describes themselves as buxom and desperate unless they're trying to use their tits to buy something. It's kind of irrelevant, otherwise. No one is buying Desperate Buxom Granny's Irish Stew, and if they are, they should be ashamed.

#2. Smokes

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Whether or not you agree with prostitution -- some folks dislike it on moral grounds or religious grounds, some folks don't care at all -- we can all agree that if you are going to be a prostitute, you should have some pride. The kind of pride that says no, no penis enters you for the price of two cigarettes. Do you know what two cigarettes are worth? I think maybe literally nothing.

John Kyser, a 59-year-old sheriff's deputy, whose job involved transporting inmates from the county jail to the courthouse, was arrested and charged after paying a female inmate the tidy sum of two Kools in exchange for some toots on the ol' skin flute. You can almost hear the depressing banjo porn soundtrack behind this unsavory transaction as a Kentucky sheriff's deputy, who we have to assume goes by a nickname like "Cooter" or "Gooch" in his private life, negotiated with the woman and somehow settled on a price of two cigarettes, possibly coming down from one cigarette and some roadkill stew.
While Kyser was obviously abusing his authority and being something of a scumbag, you have to wonder about the state of the woman involved and her terrible addiction to nicotine. If you want to give kids a powerful anti-smoking message, show them images of a 59-year-old Deputy trying to throw a shot in their faces in exchange for two cigarettes. That'll cut down on smoking double quick.

#1. Murder

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Selling your ass for burgers or knickknacks is one thing, but you get into some deep, philosophical shit when you try to balance the value of a human life against the value of getting it on. What's worth more to you? Would you kill for sex? Some people would, and that's kind of sad. Not because sex isn't pretty awesome or anything, but because there really should be fewer hassles in getting it. Anything you need to actually murder another human to obtain, you can do without, generally speaking. Or go elsewhere. If Wal-Mart wants you to murder someone to get that $5 DVD of The Adventures of Ford Fairlane, you go to Best Buy and get it there instead.
yep
Even though it seems obvious that murder for sex is wrong, Charlotte Collinge convinced not one, but two guys to murder her husband on the promise of sexytime fun. She picked up the two men at a bar, and they got drunk and high on some cocaine and then went full-on crazy as she promised sex if they'd just go back to her place and beat the ever-loving shit out of her husband, which they did.

Clifford Collinge died of the wounds he sustained, and both men, as well as Charlotte, were convicted of the crime, the men each getting 18 years, a piece of the wife's 23 years. So the moral of the story is that maybe when a bar skank offers to double-team you and another dude in exchange for killing her husband, you politely finish your drink and suggest that you have laundry to do tonight, instead, so you can't partake.

The 6 Most Unintentionally Hilarious Celebrity Instagrams

As all Cracked readers know, we here are all about dishing the new juicy celebrity gossip buzz. So today on DishBuzz, I'm going to utilize Instagram, because you can learn a lot from a person's Instagram account: what they eat, what their pets look like, what their nails look like, who they've been texting, and that's it. Even celebrities are starting to share intimate moments and details with the rest of the world via their Instagram accounts. Since a lot of celebrities tend to be guarded about their personal lives and personality flaws, I thought I'd use their Instagram photos to delve into their lives and reveal some harsh truths about them because omg did you hear ...

#6. Ryan Seacrest Was All Like, "Holy Shit, Look! It's Anything!"

If there's one thing I know about Ryan Seacrest, it's his name. The other thing I know is that he talks to famous people for a living and for the life of him he just can't even believe it.

"Welcome back, I'm Ryan Seacrest, and if I hadn't already pooped out all of my poop when I pooped from surprise earlier, I'd poop myself from surprise right now!"

Even when he's with people he works with on a daily basis.

"I'm flipping out because it's you again, still!"

After not even taking the time to Google "Ryan Seacrest," I can assume that he's had the "keeps his shit together while being near celebrities" gig for at least a decade. After Googling "Ryan Seacrest," I know that he's worked in radio since 2004. But what Google can't tell me is why he's so amazed to be near a microphone.

Or a television set.

But even ignoring all that, through no further Googling, I know that Ryan Seacrest has at least interacted with and/or seen a wide variety of things over his decades of life as a human being. And yet ...

"You guys you guys you guys you guys you guys you guys you guys! A tree!"

Thanks to wild assumptions, I have concluded that Ryan Seacrest is from the past or the future, or he's like a reverse Benjamin Button who hehe gets younger mentally but grows older physically so he's just now learning what trees are, or he's like a regular Benjamin Button who grows older mentally but gets younger physically and he's forgotten what trees are, or he's like an inverse opposite Benjamin Button who grows older mentally and physically, and he's just also pretty dumb.

#5. John Mayer Sure Goes to a Lot of John Mayer Concerts

If there's anything I hate more than John Mayer, it's not much. Maybe a John Mayer impersonator, but only because, like, why are they doing that? Who hired them, and for what, exactly? Seriously, get any other job. Oh, also war, I hate war. General evil stuff, I hate.

Pop Culture Geek
General Evil Stuff

But mostly I just hate John Mayer. Don't worry, he asked for it. But apparently he's also a huge May Head, because he goes to every fucking John Mayer concert imaginable, it's nuts. He's just constantly traveling around the country, following J. May on tour. I just- You know, do something else with your life, man. Take a class, learn a skill. Hell, make music. Do anything other than watch John Mayer live in concert every fucking night.

"John! Look over here!" - John

I mean this guy goes to literally every one, it's ridiculous. No wonder all of his songs sound the same; he doesn't listen to any other music! J. May, if you're only watching your own concerts all the time, chances are you're not going to be pushing yourself creatively. Your music career will become an Ouroboros and you'll wind up with songs called "Wonderland of Your Body" or "I Can't Think of Any Other John Mayer Songs to Slightly Rearrange the Title Of."

And you think you're so cool just because you get to go backstage at a John Mayer concert, John Mayer? Well, you're not. Not if you go backstage to the same person's concert over and over. It's pathetic. And honestly, it's a little creepy. If I were John Mayer, I'd watch out for you, John Mayer.

#4. You Guys, Justin Bieber Is Really Worried About His Camera

Everything's cool, Biebs. Your camera seems fine. And even if it breaks, I'll bet you could just reach into your any pocket and find a new phone. Try it, try breaking your phone right now.

That was rough, I know, and I'm sorry you had to deal with that, JB, but look! See? You already have a new phone!

Also? You're not wearing your reading glasses, Jiebs. Why aren't you wearing your reading glasses? Are you embarrassed? 'Cause listen, don't let your crew make fun of you for needing glasses. I know teens and tweens can be cruel, but you need your glasses. You know that. Wear them. Wear your fucking reading glasses, Justin.

Oh, and lower your eyebrows, son! A lot of people follow and look up to you. If you keep this up, more people will start trying really hard to touch their eyebrows to their hairline. But that's impossible, because those things are separated by foreheads. It simply can't be done. It's alarming to think about pictures like this, pictures that almost 10 million impressionable young people are exposed to every day. Fangirl or fanboy, it is impossible to touch one's eyebrows to one's head. Again, because your forehead's in the way. Beliebers be tripping if they think they're going to touch brow to head without some kind of corrective surgery that removes the forehead. Please be more responsible, Justin Bieber, who I know reads this column. And speaking of corrective surgery ...

#3. Paris Hilton's Right Shoulder Is Way Too Heavy for Such a Tiny Woman

OK, this girl needs to get surgery on her hideously massive right shoulder, and she needs to do it yesteryear. I mean, girl can't even hold that shit up without her hip helping out. Yo, Paris, I know you got the richest money out there, so go buy yourself the best doctor on the planet and fix your (again, hideous) arm. Because honestly, your handicap is distracting everyone.

I mean, look at that crowd of people trying really hard not to stare at that thing. Oh, and Paris, brace yourself if the word "hideous" bothers you, because that's the only correct word to use in this situation, and I'll be using it a lot. If you'd like me to stop using it, change the situation and do something about that hideously massive thing growing next to and just below your neck.

And just from a health and fitness perspective, you should take better care of yourself. That can't be good for your back. You shouldn't be bending like that, girl! Maybe they make corrective slings that can withstand the weight of your enormous right shoulder? If they do, you should get one. Or more realistically, you should get an industrial one specially made. I assume you already have a person to specially alter your clothes to fit and support that hideous whale dick you call an arm, so just get them to fashion a cute little sling, too. Or better yet, as I pointed out earlier, use your money to buy some more money and then use the more money to pay for the best plastic-surgeon-slash-traveling-freak-show-mad-scientist there is. I'm sure there's at least one. We're all rooting for you, girl!

#2. Mark Zuckerberg Bioengineered a Living Mop

Run.

#1. Taylor Swift Is Fucking Amazing at Goddamn Instagram

Seriously, holy shit, look at this stuff:

Seashells lined up in a row, shoe trees arranged like anything. This girl was born to 'gram, and I am deadly serious. I feel like Ryan Seacrest right now, I can't even fucking handle this.

I mean, just look at this stuff...

In a headband, sitting on the floor in front of a tiny piano.

All these goddamn cats.

Fucking scrapbooking.

Most of a hand next to the window of an airplane.

Some pretty flowers in a hand.

This thing.

A letter written on each finger, and those fingers are on the keys of a piano. Great filter choice, too, holy shit.

COFFEE FOAM A COIN PURSE AND PART OF A HAND ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

Sewing material.

This fucking landscape.

5 Terrible Things We Only Know Because of the Internet

How much do you love the Internet? Statistics I'm making up suggest the answer is a lot. You love it so much that it makes your stomach flutter when you see the Internet across the quad, and you pause and stare and then it stops and flips its hair and your eyes meet and you think, "Ooh, Internet, you got what I like," and the Internet thinks. "010001110101001101." Yeah. That's sexy.
The Internet has taken our lives by storm and changed the world in ways arguably no other invention ever has. It's fucking awesome, and it's full of hilarious gifs and cats and gifs of cats. Look at this!

CatGifPage!

Satisfying. But the Internet is nothing if not a monkey's paw, the giver of wishes and, at the same time, the bestower of cruelly ironic punishments and other assorted badness. Think of all the wonders the Internet has brought you, and then pause to reflect on all the things you've seen online that made you wince. If it wasn't for the Internet, you'd happily live your life unaware of all kinds of terrible shit.

#5. The Proliferation of Racism

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You know racism is a thing. I know it's a thing. You can be damn sure minorities in the Deep South know it's a thing. But would you have any idea how insane it was in 2013 if not for the Internet?
Maybe I'm just naive, and maybe I'm not saying "maybe" for no reason because clearly I am, but I honestly thought, or used to anyway, that we were getting away from hate as a cultural pastime. I thought, with a black president, with the millions of Hispanics across America, with white people actually becoming minorities in places, we were maybe on our way to that serene, Star Trek future where we'll happily pork ladies of all hues, even green. Fuck no, we're not there at all.
Were you aware that they still have segregated proms in Georgia? Black kids have to have their own prom on a different day from the white kids. In Georgia. Which is a state in America in the present. This year in Wilcox County, students held their first integrated prom, which everyone celebrated as a great move toward righting wrongs of the past. Not like the 1960s past, mind you, but 2012. And 2011. And every other year when the idea of a segregated prom went off without a hitch.
Across the pond, our European cousins are demonstrating their social graces in Italy by throwing bananas at their first black minister, and other politicians have openly referred to her as an orangutan. This would be like John Boehner calling Barack Obama a monkey. And while you're not likely to hear too many politicians say that, it doesn't mean other people aren't.

These aren't old tweets -- they're all from si within the last month. If that's not enough, when I Googled Obama's name and the N-word to find some material for this entry, I ran across a forum that exists solely for people to be racist. Happily racist, away from the oppression of people who would dare criticize them for being hateful, ignorant dicks. It's hard being a racist, ya know. The forum has over 9,000 members, and they're pretty active -- 318 were online when I dropped in. That's almost as many as were active in Cracked's forum at the same time. Now, Cracked has a ton more users, but Cracked is a massive comedy website that has mass appeal. This was a site that was selling itself on how much fun it is to drop the N-word about all willy-nilly and hate black people.

Head to YouTube on any given day and catch a video from Worldstarhiphop and you'll see comments like this one -- he's not a racist, he just wonders if the world wouldn't be better with no black people! This kind of stuff is all over the Internet all the time.

#4. Dirty Buttholes and Clean Buttholes

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How many buttholes have you see in person? I am going to guess that, on average, the number is pretty low. I would say the average American has probably never seen more than three buttholes in person. I feel that's reasonable. Some people are probably up to their elbows in buttholes, but then I bet there are others who will live their whole lives having never seen a single butthole, not even their own. Full disclosure: I've totally looked at my own butthole in the mirror. It was a trip.
Thanks to the Internet, I have seen so many buttholes, I don't even know where to begin talking about them. Yes I do. Dirty ones. Before you flinch and close the window, rest assured that I don't mean like "dirty" dirty. I have no other way to describe what I mean, though, except with more descriptive synonyms. Stained buttholes. Tarnished buttholes. Run-down buttholes. Buttholes that, while they may have recently been soaped and scrubbed, still look oddly cast in pewter. If you look at the same websites I look at, you totally know what I mean. If you don't, well, I'm about to school you -- some people have dirty-looking crappers. They're not really dirty, it's just a pigment on the skin. This leads me to my second point -- clean buttholes.

Southbeachskinsolutions

If it weren't for the Internet, I bet few if any of us would have any idea that you can pay a person to bleach your asshole. People with these chronically dirty buttholes are able to get ass bleaching to give their puckers a healthy, pinkish glow. Did any of us need this info to get through life? Not remotely. But despite that, I'm fully aware of just how common dirty buttholes are, and just how much it'll set you back to bleach it to a new shade of you. South Beach Skin Solutions will charge you $50 for 2 ounces of ass bleach. And don't worry, you can use it on your face, too, if you want to go out and make sure your face and ass are coordinated.
There was a time when porn was peopled only with hairy inebriants and ladies who looked like they breathed scotch. Then came the porn Golden Age, when everyone was pretty, at least everyone with boobs, and they were all clean and impossibly perfect and people complained that porn was not realistic at all. And then came the Internet, and there was nothing stopping literally everyone from humping on camera, and suddenly you could Google up a dirty butthole in under 20 seconds. And there's no closing that Pandora's Box of Buttholes, not anymore.

#3. Nerd Rage

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If you remember back in the pre-Internet and early Internet days, there was a massive nerd stigma in Western society. There are still remnants of it today, at the fringe of the "new" nerd wave, where nerds and geeks are cool. But back in the day, it wasn't cool to be a nerd. It was an insult. Someone was making fun of you if they called you a nerd, and you would get called a nerd for reading comic books, playing Magic: The Gathering, or being into computers -- the kind of stuff that is generally considered cool today (minus the Magic part, that's still nerdy as shit).
While the world has moved on and embraced nerd culture -- Comic-Con is a huge mainstream event, movies like The Hobbit and The Avengers gross billions, and everyone is on a computer all the time -- nerds have not forgotten. Just because their culture has been embraced doesn't mean their awkwardness and nerdy habits have faded away. Quite the opposite. This growth in nerdism has contributed to an equal growth in nerd rage, easily witnessed on any and every message board and social media site out there. Here's someone sounding off on illogical plot points in Star Trek into Darkness:

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Here's nerds fighting over a video game:

Here's a nerd losing his mind for 10 solid minutes and more than 200 "fucks" in a game of Team Fortress 2:

Nerds are mainstream now but have no idea how to deal with it. If the Internet wasn't around to allow the spread and growth of nerd hobbies, this would have never happened, and we'd never get to laugh uncomfortably at it. They'd still be stuck in basements and at card shops having low-key freakouts that the rest of us are unaware of because we just assume those nerds are emotionless freaks to mock for our amusement. And by our I mean your. I'm clearly with the nerds. Table flip, bitches!